Them
by ttfan111robstar1
Summary: Mokuba knocks on Seto's door to ask about their parents.


The scent of a warm summer's night blew in through the window of Seto Kaiba's bedroom, making the long curtains flutter in the breeze. It had been a long time since he'd deigned to air out his room this way, but there was something about this night that seemed alluring to him. The night seemed so still and quiet, the kind of night where peace and quiet could be had even in the heart of the city. There was no sound of cars rushing by on the roads outside, nor was there any sound of dogs howling or crickets chirping. It was completely quiet. The perfect kind of night for turning into bed early.

Seto Kaiba intended to do exactly that for once. It was only seven thirty at night, usually the time he'd be eating a hurried dinner. Time, it seemed, never allowed for him to slow down. Everything had to be done as quickly as possible in his life. There was never a time when he could truly take a break and enjoy himself. Tonight, he hoped, would be the exception to that rule.

He got comfortable in his bed and pulled out a book. _The Count Of Monte Cristo _by Alexandre Dumas had been sitting on his nightstand for quite some time now. He'd been reading it for more or less four months, any time he had a bit of free time, which was not often. Brushing off the thin layer of dust that had settled upon it's cover, he opened it and began to read.

About two chapters in, a soft knock came at his door.

"Come in." He said, already knowing who it would be.

Mokuba Kaiba peeked his head inside the large mahogany doors. "Seto?"

"Come in, Mokuba."

Mokuba smiled a bit and stepped inside onto the plush rug that carpeted the otherwise cold wooden floor of the room. Seto bookmarked his place and set the book on his nightstand as his brother hopped up onto his ridiculously oversized California King bed.

"Is everything alright?" He asked.

Mokuba nodded distractedly. "Yeah, I was just…" He trailed off, not finishing the thought.

A red flag raised in Seto Kaiba's mind at that. Mokuba always knew what he wanted to say. There were no secrets between them. If he wasn't finishing his sentences, it was because he was nervous. Seto pulled his brother close to him in hopes of reassuring him.

"What is it, Mokuba?"

Mokuba paused, silently thinking about how to ask this question. It was one of enormous importance to him, and he wasn't sure if his brother would answer him. Finally, he decided on how to do it.

"What were they like?" He asked softly.

There was no question of who Mokuba was talking about. It also explained his hesitance to bring up the subject. Seto's face did not harden as one might have expected. Instead, it was thoughtful. He couldn't figure out how to answer the question. Anytime Mokuba had asked about their parents as a small boy, Seto had always been pulled away by some task, unable to answer him until he came back and the question was forgotten. He should have guessed the question would pop up again, after all they had been through in the Virtual World. Finding out they had a stepbrother, seeing their stepfather again. It was no wonder his brother was wondering about the people who had given him life.

Seto pulled his little brother closer, and was pleased to find Mokuba happy to snuggle into him. He paused a long moment, before speaking.

"They were amazing people." He began softly. "Mom stayed at home, but before she did that, she used to be a secretary. Dad used to work for a nonprofit. He used to own a little gaming store, but he gave it up when he realized he wanted to help people more than he wanted to sell things to people. He used to love to teach me new games. He's the one who taught me to play chess. Mom loved to cook. She used to make amazing grilled cheese sandwiches. She had a beautiful voice, too. She used to sing to you all the time when she was pregnant. She used to have these long talks with me about what having a sibling would be like. She was so excited when she found out you were coming."

Mokuba stiffened at that. "What happened to her?" He asked softly.

Seto squeezed him a little in an attempt to comfort him. "She started bleeding when she was in labor with you. There hadn't been any indication that that would start. She had pretty severe morning sickness when she was pregnant with you, but otherwise she didn't have any problems. She was hemorrhaging badly. The doctors got you out, but they couldn't… They couldn't save her."

Mokuba swallowed. "Did she… Did she ever hold me?"

Seto nodded. "She did. Just after you were born. She got to hold you, and even though she was in unimaginable pain at the end, you still made her smile. She made me promise to look out for you, before she died. She kissed all of us goodbye before she…" He didn't finish.

"And Dad?"

"He tried to keep going after that. There were a lot of good times. He used to take you to the park all the time and push you on the swings, laughing like a maniac. He used to dance with both of us when he put this old record player on. He used to tickle you all the time, just to hear you laugh. He hurt without her, but he put on a brave face for our sake. He was trying to live a new normal. We had a few years with him."

"But?" The word was deathly quiet.

"There was an accident. It was raining and a drunk driver ran him off the road. I overheard our aunt say that he died instantly."

Mokuba was quiet a moment. Then: "I don't remember him at all. I know I used to, but I don't now. Sometimes I think I can remember him, but I never know if what I'm remembering was real or just something I made up. Am I supposed to forget him?" He looked up at his brother.

Seto gave him a soft squeeze. "I don't know, Mokuba."

Mokuba leaned his head against his brother's shoulder. "Seto?"

"Hmmm?"

"Is it… Is it my fault? About Mom?"

Seto turned to his brother, eyes wide, before he lifted his brother's chin so that Mokuba would meet his gaze.

"No, Mokuba. It wasn't your fault. Nobody could have seen it coming. Her pregnancy with me was normal, so there was no way she could have known that you would be any different. Not even the doctors knew."

"If I hadn't been born-"

"_Mokuba._" The word was said quietly, but cut off the younger boy's words better than a shout. "If you hadn't been born, then I wouldn't still be alive."

That stunned the young boy into silence. His mouth was open, gaping at his brother.

It took him a minute to process the enormity of that, before he spoke. "…What?"

Seto pulled his little brother into his lap. "Mokuba, you're what kept me going all these years. There's no telling what might have happened if you hadn't been born. There's no way of knowing if my fate would have been different. Dad could have still died in that car crash. Mom still could have passed away early. I could have still been left to rot in that orphanage, but the difference is, I would have had nobody to fight for. If I had still been adopted by Gozaburo, I would never have survived what he put me through. I would have been alone. But you- you're the reason I'm not."

Mokuba stared up at his brother a moment, wide-eyed, before wrapping his arms around Seto's neck as tightly as he could manage. Seto hugged him closely, feeling an odd weight lifted from him now that he had really broached the subject of their parents with Mokuba. Though he didn't like discussing it, he was somewhat happy that his little brother could at least have some closure on the subject from him.

Mokuba held onto his brother for a long time. "I miss them, Seto. How is it possible to miss people you can't even remember?"

Seto pondered that for a moment, unsure of how to answer, before he spoke again. "Your mind might not remember them, but your heart won't ever forget. You never forget about the pieces of yourself that you're missing." He said softly.

Mokuba looked at him, a little surprised. "You don't forget?"

"No… I never forget."

"How come you don't talk about them?"

Seto sighed. "I don't see what good it does to ruminate on things you'll never have again. Focusing on the present and the future is what's best, because then you can make it whatever you want. The past already happened, and it won't make me any better. What I can do is make the present the best it can be, and plan to make my future brighter."

"Seto, you're their son. I _can't _remember them, so you have to. Because if you forget them, or don't talk about them… It's like they died all over again."

Seto considered that for a very long moment, and swallowed, remembering the funerals for both of his parents. "…Maybe you're right, Mokuba."

Mokuba's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"

Seto nodded. "I suppose it's my job to do their memory justice. But it's not just me doing it. It's you too."

"Me?"

"You smile just like Mom did, and you laugh just like Dad used to. Their memories are alive with you as much as they are with me. Just because I remember them, doesn't mean it's just me that they live through."

Mokuba's smile was brighter than the sun. He hugged his brother tightly. "Thanks, Seto."

Seto smiled softly and hugged him gently. "You're welcome, Mokuba."

Mokuba let out a soft yawn. Seto smiled at that. "I think it's about time you went to bed and got some sleep."

"I guess you're right. Is it okay if I sleep in here tonight?"

"Sure."

Mokuba smiled, then crawled under the covers next to his brother, crawling to nestle into his side.

"Goodnight, Seto."

Seto flicked off his bedside lamp, and laid against his pillow, holding his brother close.

"Goodnight, Mokuba."


End file.
